Between Us
by tropicana-e
Summary: A little more angsty Remy/Ro ficlet. Very AU


**Between Us**

"Thanks so much, Remy, you really didn't have to do all of this," Jean's thanks rose above all the other murmured 'thank you's' and 'goodnight's'. Remy grinned at the couple as his other guests piled out of the door.

"Yeah, Remy, thank you. Really... you're too kind. I'm sorry Alex couldn't stay, you know he wanted to go out and do God knows what for the rest of the weekend," Scott added. Remy grinned, he hardly even had time to congratulate Alex on graduating from Princeton before he snuck out of the party.

"Naturally," the Cajun chuckled. It didn't bother him, the boy had earned a weekend to celebrate after his years hard work if that was what he wanted, rather than to spend time making small talk with his older brother's friends, and Remy was more than glad to give credit where it was due, "It was mon pleasure, mes amis, truly," he spoke as he walked them to the door, "If you do see 'im tell him to come see me 'foe he leave to Washington, eh?"

"You're not giving him anything else, are you?" Scott asked, "Remy, really you don't have to-"

"Homme, it's de least Remy can do," Remy held his hand up, stopping Cyclops from any further protest. Scott shook his hand firmly, still in disbelief at his friend's kindness.

"I'll tell him," he chuckled.

"You two enjoy y'evenin'," Remy called down the hall as the Summers made their way to the elevator. When the door closed in front of them he turned to his now empty, and messy penthouse apartment. He had alot of cleaning to do for the evening. He sighed and slumped down on his couch. _Time f'dat lata', _he decided mentally. For now, he would just rest his eyes while he could.

He jumped up when he heard his doorbell and checked his watch. He'd dozed off for a few minutes. He ran a hand down his face before getting up to answer. It was probably Alex, eager to receive his gift before his departure in the next few weeks. He opened it, and was shocked to see Ororo in the doorway, "'Roro," he said dumbly. There was still a gravely hint to his voice from his little sleep, "Som' wrong, chere? What is it?"

She looked down at the floor and glanced around before finally answering him, as if she were embarrassed or ashamed in front of him. He couldn't understand why she would be, though... she'd always seemed so professional and confident whenever he saw her. Something had to be wrong.

"I believe my coat is still here," she finally answered. Remy's eyebrows creased at this. Never in his fifteen years of knowing Ororo had she forgotten or left anything. But he stepped aside, allowing her room to enter.

"Come in, chere," he said, she stepped by him timidly, refusing eye contact. He cleared his throat, closing the door behind her, "Should be in de closet 'roun' de hall," he said, pointing her in the right direction. He watched after her as she followed his instructions, the clicking of her heels echoing through the entire place. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, rounding the living room as she searched for her jacket.

"I'm sorry if I disturbed you, Remy, I got all the way down to my car before I realized I had left it," she called out.

"No trouble at all, chere. You ain' disturb Remy at all," he answered as she reemerged. She stood across the massive room from him, her coat draped over her folded arms.

"Good," she answered, trailing, "good..."

Remy rocked on his heels, and glanced across the den, "Excuse d'mess, chere. I ain' exactly started cleanin' yet," he said. She looked around at the half empty champagne glasses and hors d'oeuvres trays and balloons.

"I could help you if you like..." she offered. Remy looked at her in bewilderment. Was she offering to clean his home for him?

"Non, chere, you don' have t'do dat, Remy can handle it," he answered. She nodded and headed to the door. Remy turned to head into the kitchen before he was stopped by her voice again.

"Are you sure?" she asked, "I could at least help you with the dishes... or maybe vacuum," she suggested. He looked around slyly, as if there were other people there who could hear their conversation.

"Chere, what's wrong," Remy finally asked.

"What do you mean?" she asked innocently.

"I mean what's th'mattah, 'roro," he answered. Storm again avoided his gaze and Remy understood, "You don' wanna go home."

"No," she sighed, "I don't. Is it that obvious?"

He shrugged, "Remy jus' good at readin' folks," he tried to ease her mind. It had been painfully obvious, "You more den welcome t'stay, chere, if you not uncom'table here wit' ol' Remy."

Storm let out a huge sigh of relief, "Thank you, Remy. I know how irrational I must seem right now-"

"Don' you dare, pétite," Remy held up his palm, stopping her mid-sentence, "You welcome anytime you please. Come, sit, chere," he offered. She smiled, gratefully and handed him her coat, sitting on his posh black sofa. He grinned in return as he took her coat once again and disappeared into the suite.

Storm looked around, growing more uncomfortable by the minute. She ridiculed herself in her head. How idiotic must this seem; a grown woman afraid to go to her own home after being on her own for so many years. Remy probably thought she was being just as stupid as she did. She shook her head, hearing his muted footsteps returning to the den.

"May Remy offa y'a drink, chére?" he asked, passing her and making his way into the kitchen. His subtle cologne entered her nostrils as he did, and she sighed, relaxing somewhat.

"Sure, thank you," she answered timidly, "Whatever you're having," she added. She took in her surroundings further as he worked around in the kitchen. Remy was doing incredibly well for himself. But then, she'd known he would... even in their college days. Remy partied hard, but he worked harder. More importantly, he came from old money, so he knew how to manage it. Now he was the CEO of First Mutant National Bank and had a salary that put hers and everyone else's she knew to shame. But he'd shown tonight that he left business at the workplace, as he always had. She admired him greatly for that. So many of her wealthier associates had made their bank accounts turn them into uptight upperclass clichés. Remy wasn't like that. He never had the mindset to flaunt his status or put his less luxurious friends down. Even as he appeared in the doorway from the kitchen with two wine glasses in his hand, she couldn't help but think how he'd hardly changed at all... since their high school days, even. His fashion sense, maybe. He'd gone from wearing jeans, boots and leather dusters all the time to a more business casual wardrobe. The ensemble he'd chosen for tonight flattered his lithe features. Black had always been his best color. The years had done nothing to his sex appeal, either.

She smiled when he handed her her glass and subconsciously pulled her dress further down her thighs. It had seemed fine when she had gotten dressed earlier that night, but now she felt nearly naked in front of the man.

"You enjoy y'self this evenin', chére?" he asked, sitting next to her. Immediately her previous tension was replaced and she scooted away from him as subtly as she could.

"Of course," she answered, "I always do at your parties."

"You always look beautiful at 'em, too, chére," he hummed, "Remy glad to hear it."

They both sipped from their glasses, Remy growing more curious by the second of Storm's behavior. She crossed her legs away from him and was rubbing her arm. He couldn't possibly be making her shy away from him this way...

"Are y'cold, 'Roro?" he asked casually, so to not startle her to her own body language. She gazed down and repositioned her hand on her lap.

"Oh, no," she answered, "I was just thinking..."

"Oh? What about, chére," he asked, turning to face her. He placed his wine glass down on the glass table in front of them. Storm shook her head slightly, fighting the urge to answer truthfully, but she did anyway.

"Alex graduating," she answered, "It seems so fast..." she trailed.

"Oui," He agreed, grinning. He gazed at her in the lighting. She hadn't changed at all since their high school days. Her features were delicate, but she was still like a rock. Refusing to let anyone in on her weaknesses or short comings. Those very traits were what made him crazy about her all those years ago. And the woman underneath was what had kept him crazy about her still, "It was us, not too long ago, non?"

He was confused when she set her glass down as well and stood. Ever since she had broken them up their junior year in college, she had never approached him on a personal level. She'd always adressed him as a colleague; she talked to him like one would a coworker... and she absolutely refused to talk about their relationship or even acknowledge that one had ever existed. She wasn't going to let him try and undo her tonight.

"This was a mistake," she said hurriedly, pulling her skirt down and stepping over Remy to make for the door. Remy was up and after her in an instant, stopping her before she could leave.

"What was a mistake, chére," he asked her. She moved back slightly, and he closed the distance between them. He was glaring at her so intensely that she could not look away. The man was mesmerizing, but she fought to resist whatever it was that was trying to draw her back to him.

"Coming here... coming back here," she stammered.

"Why did you?" He barely let her finish the sentence, inching closer to her by the second. He could see her breath quickening under her cocktail dress.

"For Alex's party," her voice quivered as she spoke and caught in her throat completely when she felt the wall against her back.

"Why'd y'come back, chérie," he asked, taking her hand in his.

"I... I don't know," her eyes fluttered closed when his other hand made its way to her cheek. The back of his fingers caressed her jaw and neck.

"You do know, chére. Tell Remy why you came back," his voice became smoother and Storm's mind became a whirling frenzy. She could feel his breath on her; in her ear, her lips, her neck. She could hardly form a coherent thought, much less think up an excuse to offer the man. _Goddess, what is he doing to me?_

"Open y'eyes, chére," Ororo obeyed immediately, gazing at the hooded eyed Remy. He wet his lips, causing her to bite hers subconsciously, "Why'd you come back to Remy?"

"I... wanted..." she breathed as he traced his lips along her neck.

"Wanted what, 'roro," he asked, grazing her earlobe with his teeth, "What did you want, mon chére?"

Storm's breath hitched when his hands found her hips, pulling her firmly against him, "I'll give y'whatchu want, chére... tell me."

"I want..." she breathed again as he showered her with his lips.

"Hmm?"

"I wanted my coat," she finally said. Remy ceased his actions and looked her in her eyes. She could feel herself trembling under his gaze. He grinned, scooping her up in his arms with no protest from the woman.

"Help me find it, chére," he answered, carrying her up the stairway.

**TBC**

_I'm not even sure where I'm going with this, but I'm sure my scattered little brain will come up with something_.


End file.
